Saturday began early for me(1pm), I went out to Alex's place for the purpose of helping him move. The Matrix was more than adept at handling things with it's roomy 32.5 cubic feet of cargo room. In there we fit several boxes and bags and an incredibly stupid desk with literally 300 pieces to it, I kid you not. Each piece was stupider than the last. The big furniture was put in the van, because as roomy as it is, the Matrix couldnt handle such things.
I only suffered two cuts, one crushed finger, and one ass cheek laceration from a wooden dowel sticking out of the afore mentioned stupid desk. So overall it was a pretty good move, accident wise. Much better than the time DC's desk collapsed on top of me.
Unfortunately there is some sadness to this post, as I now need to announce that I will never be visiting Alex again. His driveway is now 78.3KM from my driveway. Which is INSANE, curse his stupid ass for moving to Whitby. Now how can we make fun of the King City crowd when he is even further away?
After the move and the 6 hour drive back home. I was ready to kick back and relax at home. That is until I received calls to go out for the night, specifically clubbing, more specifically to the Phoenix. I figured that there's nothing more relaxing after a day of moving than dancing, so off to the Phoneix we went.
Good music was played during the start of the night, then it got lame, so we decided to make our own fun. We got incredibly silly, and were doing the stupidest dancing we could. I'm a bit hazy but I do recall inappropriately shaking my posterior to songs that clearly did not call for such things.
With the "Sweat dripping over my body, dancing getting just a little naughty" achieved, we went for food, and then called it a night.
In the morning I woke up with a sore neck which can be clearly blamed on some vigorous and misplaced head banging. But I'm going to blame the whole thing on moving Alex's heavy boxes, that way I can guilt him into paying for the shiatsu (so everyone keep the rest of that days events a secret).
I only suffered two cuts, one crushed finger, and one ass cheek laceration from a wooden dowel sticking out of the afore mentioned stupid desk. So overall it was a pretty good move, accident wise. Much better than the time DC's desk collapsed on top of me.
Unfortunately there is some sadness to this post, as I now need to announce that I will never be visiting Alex again. His driveway is now 78.3KM from my driveway. Which is INSANE, curse his stupid ass for moving to Whitby. Now how can we make fun of the King City crowd when he is even further away?
After the move and the 6 hour drive back home. I was ready to kick back and relax at home. That is until I received calls to go out for the night, specifically clubbing, more specifically to the Phoenix. I figured that there's nothing more relaxing after a day of moving than dancing, so off to the Phoneix we went.
Good music was played during the start of the night, then it got lame, so we decided to make our own fun. We got incredibly silly, and were doing the stupidest dancing we could. I'm a bit hazy but I do recall inappropriately shaking my posterior to songs that clearly did not call for such things.
With the "Sweat dripping over my body, dancing getting just a little naughty" achieved, we went for food, and then called it a night.
In the morning I woke up with a sore neck which can be clearly blamed on some vigorous and misplaced head banging. But I'm going to blame the whole thing on moving Alex's heavy boxes, that way I can guilt him into paying for the shiatsu (so everyone keep the rest of that days events a secret).